


Swiss Guard

by livia_1291



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AusSwiss, Bickering, Hetalia, M/M, Oops, Smut, Uniform kink I guess, aph austria - Freeform, aph switzerland - Freeform, background spain, background spamano if you squint sorta, basch zwingli - Freeform, edelweiss, liechtenstein sees through her brother's bullshit, papal inauguration, poland also shows up in all of his catholic glory, roderich edelstein - Freeform, smutty smut smut, swiss guard, swissaus - Freeform, swisstria, wow sexual tension in a swissaus fic so surprising
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 20:05:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11767380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livia_1291/pseuds/livia_1291
Summary: Switzerland is called on duty at the Vatican for the Papal Inauguration. Austria finds his outfit and his attitude to be a turn on.They do the do in a church and I'm going to hell.A gift for the wonderful spacesmoothiee on tumblr!





	1. What Could Go Wrong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [papayamaru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/papayamaru/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okokok so this is a gift for the wonderful spacesmoothiee on tumblr!! (Go check out her blog right now seriously you won't regret it.)
> 
> I wanted to write her a fic as a sort of thank you for all of the fantastic art she contributes to the Swissaus tag since I'm broke af and can't afford a donation. That ship is my frikkin otp and it's hard to find new art of it sometimes, but she posts at least once a week with awesome art of these two. <3
> 
> She requested a fanfic where they flirt/do smexy gay stuff when they're supposed to be serious. 
> 
> This is what ensued. 
> 
> So, without further ado, here is the first smutfic I have ever written. Enjoy!
> 
> xx
> 
> Liv

The Papal Inauguration was a huge deal.

 

The entire Catholic world was abuzz with the news of a new pope, tingling with the excitement that comes before a huge and highly anticipated celebration. As soon as the news came out, both of the Italy brothers had called Spain, who had called Austria, who had called Poland, who had called the rest of the world to let them know that _change was coming to the Vatican at las_ t! From an outsider’s perspective, it would be near impossible to find someone who _wasn’t_ thrilled about the transition.

 

But Liechtenstein was not an outsider.

 

She noticed the tension in her older brother’s shoulders (it was hard _not_ to, what with the way he had been stomping around since they had gotten Poland’s enthusiastic call,) and she noticed how on-edge he was, even more so than he was usually.

 

“Bruder?” She asked timidly, peering around the doorframe that separated their kitchen from the quaint sunroom where Basch was typing furiously on an out-of-date laptop (he refused to buy a new one, claiming that his “still worked just fine.”)

 

He grunted in acknowledgement, but did not look up from his work.

 

Carefully, she stepped into the sun-warmed room, sitting beside him and smoothing her hands over her lap. _Time to turn on the charm._ She was quite good at getting what she wanted out of him - the small girl could play the part of “adorable little sister” quite well, and despite Basch’s gruff exterior, she knew  he found it very hard to say no to her.

 

“I...I’ve just been so worried about you lately,” she exhaled, gazing up to him with large, dewy green eyes, “you’ve been so tense since we got Mister Poland’s call, I-”

 

She was cut off by a gentle, calloused hand on her shoulder, effectively silencing her. The older blond had turned his attention away from his laptop, shutting it with a satisfying _click_ and setting it to the side, where it hummed and shuddered like an old, worn-out beast.

 

“Don’t worry so much. It doesn’t suit you.” He dropped his hand from her shoulder and grimaced, emerald irises going narrow. “I’ve been called to guard the Vatican on the day of the Inauguration.”

 

 _Of course_. The Swiss Guard. Basch was only called in on special occasions, and this certainly counted as one. Lili’s eyes lit up, and she was about to congratulate him - wasn’t that fantastic?! - but judging by the look on his face, he was less than pleased.

 

“Why is that a bad thing?” She asked, choosing her words very carefully. Her brother was prone to losing his temper - not at _her_ , necessarily, but she still didn’t like to see it.

 

The Swiss man’s thin lips curled into a snarl, his hands balling into fists in his lap.

 

“Because _he’s_ going to be there.”

 

 _Ah._ Of course Roderich would be there, Austria was a very Catholic nation, after all. Lili didn’t quite understand why Basch hated Roderich so much - Mister Austria had always been perfectly nice to her. They traded cake recipes and enjoyed simple, shallow conversations about the weather, her garden, and how his cat was doing. Roderich had even tried to extend his niceties to Basch, who either snapped at him or ignored him - it depended on the day. Lili always apologized quietly to the taller of the two men, and eventually, Roderich stopped trying.

 

She had once gathered the courage ask her brother about their odd relationship, and his entire body had gone stiff. A hundred different emotions flashed through his virident eyes, and Lili had shied away, worried that she had asked a question that was strictly off-limits. She was about to leave before he spoke up, voice cool and monotonous, like a slab of polished marble.

 

“We were friends once. He made it very clear that we would not be friends ever again.”

 

When she looked back at him, his expression sent her heart into her throat. It was carefully wiped blank, betraying none of his feelings on the subject. She knew that mask, and it made her ache to her very core for her brother. He was hurting something awful, and although she desperately wanted to help him, she knew in her heart of hearts that she couldn’t. It wasn't her place  

 

The small nation finally decided to leave him there, retreating to her embroidery and leaving him to his thoughts. She never brought it up again.

 

“The Vatican is a big enough place,” she reasoned placing a comforting hand on his knee. “You can probably avoid him well enough if that would make you more comfortable. And we don’t have to stay long, we can go home as soon as your duty is done.”

 

Basch felt his heart melt. His sister, ever the social butterfly, probably wanted to stay and celebrate into the night, but she was willingly offering to leave early for him.

 

“I’ll be fine,” he assured her gently, expression softening as he stood and arched his lithe body in a stretch. “Besides, it’s only one night. What could possibly go wrong in one night?”


	2. Silly Uniforms

It took an _hour_ to get dressed in that stupid gala uniform.

 

It might have taken less time if he hadn't refused all help, but he wasn't about to let some stranger see him naked.

 

The petit alpine nation gazed at himself in the full-length mirror of the barrack dressing room, sighing deeply as he gave himself a once-over.

 

The designer of the absurd outfit had been so _proud_ , crowing about its “authenticity and larger-than-life appearances!” Basch couldn’t exactly disagree - it did resemble what he had worn in his years as a hired mercenary, but he was not proud of anything about those years, _especially_ not the heinous fashion crimes he had committed. France still cringed upon remembering it.  

 

He tugged at the starched white collar until he could breathe and grabbed his halberd from the rack on the wall. Being a member of the Swiss Guard was mostly a ceremonial role these days, but as the press of the Glock at his hip reminded him, things could get dangerous, and they all had to be prepared, especially on such an important day. Casting a final grim look at himself in the mirror, the blond turned to go.

 

_Show time._

  


Roderich had spent even longer than Basch getting ready, but that wasn’t unusual. The aristocratic male still cared quite a bit about keeping up appearances, and refused to leave the house unless he was fully dressed, even if it was just to buy a loaf of bread.

 

The suit he was wearing to the Papal Inauguration put his buying-a-loaf-of-bread outfit to shame.

 

The extravagant alpine nation had had silky grey material imported from Hungary just for this occasion, and custom-tailored by the best Italian suit makers to accentuate his trim waist and long legs. Purple accents at his cuffs and pocket pulled out his unmistakable eyes, and a cream jabot set with an iridescent amethyst frothed forth from his pale throat. The final touch was a tiny edelweiss peeking out of the buttonhole on his lapel.

 

He looked great, and he knew it.

 

The actual ceremony wouldn’t start for another ten minutes, but the Austrian knew that this was not the time or place to be “fashionably late.” Once the gates closed, the guards at the door would not hesitate to turn stragglers away.

 

_Especially if one of those guards was Basch._

 

Roderich had heard that the Swiss man would be one of the guards on duty, which made perfect sense. The blond would be too busy to make an appearance at a lesser event. Despite his best efforts to block the man from his mind, he found himself hoping against hope that he would see his old friend there.

 

Hurrying through the heavy wooden doors into the Basilica, he took a seat next to Poland, who was excitedly whispering something to a long-suffering Lithuania, and Spain, who had his hand subtly resting over the Southern Italian brother’s.

 

With great fanfare, the doors swung open again, and a line of soldiers marched down the aisle, leading the holy procession. Roderich’s heart caught in his chest and his vision tunneled. _Basch._

 

The petit male’s steely green eyes were trained ahead, his steps even and measured. Roderich knew that walk. It wasn’t threatening at the moment, but as he remembered all too well, it could become lethal in a fraction of a second.

 

Roderich’s eyes traced the man’s figure, and he found himself licking his lips subconsciously. Basch’s chest was decorated with medals, and a wide brown belt cinched tight around his willowy waist. Loose, colorful bands of blue and yellow hid the rest of his figure, but- _good god_ , were those _tights_ hugging those shapely calves?!

 

The brunet had to bite back a whimper of longing, keeping his composure as best he could through the ceremony. Even as the congregation chanted in Latin, even as the Papal Tiara was placed on the head of the new pope, his violet eyes hardly ever left that alluring blond’s face.

 

Oh, this was simply _too much._

 

The Papal Inauguration had never dragged on quite so long, Roderich could have _sworn_ they had tacked on fifteen extra minutes of Latin just to torture him. He sighed in relief as the procession marched out, this time in reverse, and the moment the congregation got up and began to mill about, the aristocrat was on his feet, hurrying towards the doors. He ignored Spain’s curious glance, and pretended not to hear Hungary call after him. He _needed_ to talk to Basch.

 

He found the shorter nation chatting in relaxed Swiss German with two other members of the guard. The brunet waited politely, enjoying the lilting, bubbly sound of the unfamiliar dialect. It was so unique that Roderich could hardly understand what they were saying.

 

It was one of the guards who noticed Roderich before Basch did, and he lightly tapped the blond’s shoulder, notifying him of the Austrian’s presence. He spun around, eyes narrowing coldly when he saw the brunet standing there.

 

“Roderich.”

 

There was no warmth in his tone, and the taller alpine nation began to get nervous, shifting a little. His mouth felt like a desert - the spark he had felt when Basch walked in became a roaring wildfire. The two guards had slipped away to give them privacy, leaving them alone in the grand hallway.

 

“You did very well,” Roderich managed, wishing he could melt into the floor. _What a stupid thing to say._ Where had his eloquence gone?

 

The blond snorted, shifting his halberd into his left hand - his dominant hand, of course Roderich remembered - and scowled up at the brunette.

 

“Why are you talking to me?” He demanded, and the other man’s lavender eyes widened at the frost coating Basch’s rich voice, then relaxed in realization.

 

_Two could play that game._

 

“It’s polite to congratulate someone on a job well done. Surely your manners haven’t slipped after all these years,” Roderich quipped, idly fussing with his cuffs.

 

Basch’s tourmaline eyes flickered with irritation. “I don’t need your damn congratulations,” He hissed. “And I don’t need you.”

 

“Who said anything about needing me?” A thin, arched brow shot up, and full lips twisted into a teasing sort of smile. “Freudian slip, it seems.”

 

“Oh, like you can talk,” the Swiss man retorted. “You stared at me the whole damn ceremony! Who _does_ that?”

 

Roderich hummed, and lifted his hand to examine his nails - _God, the audacity and_ sass _of that brunet, Basch wanted to hit him_ \- before sighing. “I was just thinking that your outfit is extremely…” He gestured vaguely to the man in front of him with one slender finger. “...unfortunate.”

 

That was a blatant lie on his part. That uniform was absurdly tempting. He wanted to rip those tights off and worship every inch of that luscious body, but Basch _most certainly_ did not need to know that.

 

Basch growled threateningly, and the aristocrat shrugged his sloping shoulders. “Basch, I’m not afraid of you. You’re all bark and _no bite._ ”

 

Roderich knew he was asking for it. He knew he was egging the feisty blond on. But that didn’t stop the gasp from leaving his lips when the tension between them snapped like a rubberband, and Basch slammed him into the wall and kissed him with the force of a hurricane.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh they kissed-
> 
> Also if you have never seen the gala uniform of the Swiss Guard, look it up. You won't regret it. 
> 
> Basch is technically too short to be a Swiss guard (one must be 5'8.5" at least,) but I imagine they would let him do his thing on very special occasions, given who he is. 
> 
> He'd also prooooobably be above an enlisted man, so he'd get a fancy chestplate and feathery helmet but I didn't want to write it in sue me let's just pretend he didn't want to wear it. 
> 
> Smut to come in the next chapter!
> 
> xx
> 
> Liv


	3. Hidden Alcoves

Basch didn’t hear his halberd clatter to the ground. He didn’t notice when Roderich’s slender fingers knotted into his hair and knocked his beret off, and god damn it all,  _ he didn’t care. _

 

He had kissed him to get him to shut his fucking mouth, and to show him that he  _ did _ bite, how dare the foolish man imply that he didn’t- He hadn’t expected Roderich to kiss back, and when he did, neither of them could stop.

 

Basch knew this was wrong. He knew they needed to stop, to pull away and forget any of this had happened. Surely they would both be missed at the gala…

 

But he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

 

A dam between them had been broken, and all of the suppressed emotions, all of the tension, all of the things they had tried to ignore over the years came pouring out. Somewhere in their heated kisses, Roderich had managed to flip them, and held Basch against the wall, but the Swiss was too occupied with a skilled tongue down his throat to care much about that little change.

 

“Fuck you,” Basch hissed, and Roderich gave a low, husky chuckle, breaking apart and licking his own kiss-slicked lips. 

 

“Is that what you want to do?” He whispered, and the blond went cherry red from his cheeks to the very tips of his ears. Roderich found it adorable.

 

_ “Yes.” _

 

They hardly managed to break apart to find a secluded area, settling on an alcove shuttered away from everything by several large silk tapestries. Roderich pushed the smaller nation into it, enjoying how submissive the blond had become in his heated desire.

 

He settled on the floor and pulled the Swiss man into his lap, gazing up to him with a tiny, proud glint in iridescent violet eyes.

 

Basch looked so  _ undone _ , with his hair a mess, lips swollen from endless kisses, and his cheeks flushed a pretty pink. Roderich felt desire lurch through his body.

 

“Surely you can’t be comfortable in this,” he purred liltingly, running a finger over the bright material hiding Basch’s body from him. “Why don’t we fix that?”

 

“This is your fault,” the Swiss mumbled, seeming a little shy as he slowly unbuttoned the top half of the uniform and cast it aside, leaving his muscled, pale chest exposed. 

 

Roderich ran an elegant hand over the creamy pale skin, biting his lip as Basch inhaled sharply. “Sure...blame me,  _ liebling _ .”

 

Basch was about to retort when he felt a sharp pinch on his nipples, and he bit his lower lip hard to keep from crying out, shooting the other nation a weak glare. 

 

“The rest of it needs to go too,” Roderich tsk’d, and Basch groaned, rising from his lap to shed the pants and tights. The Austrian’s mouth was watering - now he could clearly see his lover’s arousal, and he wanted nothing more than to take him right then and there.

 

Instead of pouncing on him, he stood, taking his own sweet time shedding his suit. “I hope you know,” he began, folding the jacket carefully, “that it took me  _ hours _ to get ready this-  _ oh.” _

 

Basch had effectively shut him up by kneeling and mouthing the bulge in his tight briefs, glaring up to him with emerald irises blurry with lust. Deft fingers pulled the underwear all the way down, freeing his hard-on for Basch’s ministrations.

 

“You do realize,” the blond whispered, slowly laving his tongue over the very tip of his length, “that we are doing this in a church?” 

 

Roderich hissed at the feeling, knotting a hand in cornsilk locks. “Shush your mouth and give it to me.”

 

The smaller man smirked, realizing the amount of power he had over the larger nation. “I don’t think I will,” he mused, rocking back on his heels and gazing up to him with false innocence.

 

That was it. Something in the brunet snapped, and he moved quickly, pinning a very surprised Basch to the floor, as feral growl left his throat. “You have teased me for centuries, and I am _done_ _with it_. It’s my turn now.”

 

The blond had to bite his thumb to keep quiet when he felt Roderich kiss his smooth calves, working his way up to his inner thighs. When he tried to wiggle his hips to bring those plush lips closer to his arousal, he was treated to a sharp pinch on the delicate skin. “Hold still,” the man chided, “and stay quiet. If we get caught, it’s your fault.”

 

Basch groaned softly as Roderich lavished kisses and nips over his creamy pale skin, bringing his legs to rest over the skilled man’s shoulders as he finally wrapped his perfect mouth over the tip of his aching length. It took all of his willpower not to sob in relief.

 

He was just beginning to enjoy the pleasure mounting in his petit body and gaining the courage to whisper Roderich’s name as he took him deeper and deeper into his hot mouth, feasting on his hard cock with age-old hunger, when both of them froze.

 

_ Footsteps _ .

 

Panic shot through his body, and he pushed Roderich off of him, as much as he hated to lose the warmth of his mouth around his cock. They shared a frantic look. There was no way either of them could get dressed in time, should they be caught. 

 

Both of them were praying that they wouldn’t be caught (though given that they were fucking in a church, Basch wasn’t sure that the praying would work.) Both nations fell completely still when the footsteps stopped shortly outside of their hiding place.  _ Oh shit. _ A scraping sound and a soft grunt echoed through the hall, and Basch stiffened.

 

_ His halberd _ . In their heated hurry, he had left it where it had fallen from his hand.

 

“Hello?” A lyrical, masculine voice called, and he felt Roderich clamp a hand over his mouth.  _ Spain _ , he mouthed, and Basch swatted his hand away, remaining still and quiet. Of course, the sunny nation must have come back to look for Roderich.

 

The two of them held their breaths when there was the sound of the old weapon being laid back down, followed by a curious hum. Footsteps grew faint once more, and finally, the doors swung shut. 

 

They exhaled in unison.

 

“Where were we?” Roderich mused teasingly, and Basch gave a soft whimper of protest. “Oh, right, I was sucking you off and you were in the process of forgetting your own name.”

 

The retort flaked off his tongue when Roderich took him back into his mouth, gently stroking his thighs as Basch bit his lower lip hard to keep from crying out, desperately grabbing those soft chocolate tresses to ground himself

 

That tongue was driving him wild. It swirled around his shaft, tickling the throbbing vein along the underside and laving over the weeping tip. He thrashed beneath his skilled lover, eyes shut tight as he clung desperately to reality.

 

_ Oh god, he was so close. _

 

He managed to choke out a warning, but to his surprise, Roderich didn’t pull back. The blond’s thighs trembled, his toes curled and he bit down hard on his own slender fingers, spilling his hot seed into Roderich’s waiting mouth with a choked sob of his name.

 

The brunette sat up pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his discarded trousers, spitting into it and humming. “There,” he cooed, pressing a sweet kiss to the exhausted nation’s parted lips, and Switzerland shook. “You’re still hard,” he murmured, sitting up. His tiny body was flushed with the afterglow of his orgasm, and Roderich ached to think that he wouldn’t be able to embrace and snuggle him when they were done.

 

They had picked a rather terrible place to do this.

 

“It’s okay,” he murmured, but Basch shook his head firmly. 

 

“It’s improper to take without giving anything in return,” he responded, a barely-there smirk on his lips. “I haven’t forgotten my manners. Not after you drilled them into me for three centuries.”

 

Roderich gave a breathy laugh, leaning against the wall as Basch took his place in his lap. The stone at his shoulders was cool against his burning skin. 

 

“Schatz, you can’t do this without preparation,” he murmured into the blond’s ear, and Basch snorted, comfortably straddling his thighs. “Obviously. Do you have any lube?”

 

The brunet rolled his amethyst orbs playfully. “Yes Basch. I brought lube to the Papal Inauguration.” He thought for a moment, then dug a small vial from the same pocket he had pulled the handkerchief out of. “Rose oil. It’s natural, I use it as a perfume,” he admitted sheepishly. “It will have to do.”

 

Basch snorted, but didn’t protest, watching as the Austrian uncorked the little bottle and poured some over his long, elegant fingers, pressing one to Basch’s tight entrance. His other hand cupped the Swiss man’s luscious ass, and Basch inhaled sharply when the finger slipped in.

 

“Does it hurt?” Roderich murmured into his ear, letting the man bury his face in the crook of his neck.

 

“No,” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses to the pale column of the brunet’s neck.

 

A second finger was added without issue, but the Swiss man whined at the third one, squirming uncomfortably in Roderich’s lap.

 

“Do you want me to stop?” The larger nation inquired, and Basch shook his head firmly. 

 

“Don’t you dare.”

 

Roderich chuckled at the other man’s spirit, gently kissing his temple as he skillfully stretched out the tight rings of muscle so that his little lover wouldn’t be in agony later.

 

After several minutes of this, Basch stirred impatiently. “Enough,” he demanded. “I need you.”

 

Roderich hummed and withdrew his fingers as he tamed the blond with a kiss. “As you wish,” he murmured, stroking the remaining oil over his hard length and gently guiding the blond to sink down onto his cock.

 

Basch tossed his head back and growled low in his throat at the feeling of his body being stretched, and the Austrian leaned forward to kiss his exposed throat and gently pet his hips, wanting to soothe away the pain he was taking on. He wasn’t exactly small, and Basch was unbelievably tight - surely the blond wasn’t a virgin?

 

“That’s it,” he whispered shakily, and Basch relaxed in his lap, having taken him up to the hilt. His brows were furrowed, lips parted as he caught his breath. “N-not yet. Don’t move yet.” he managed, and Roderich simply drew him into his arms, laying a flurry of kisses over his flushed cheeks.

 

A minute or two passed, and the blond drew back from his chest, resting his hands on the Austrian’s pale shoulders as he began to rock his slender hips. Roderich released a high whine at the feeling, earning a light nip on his earlobe from the Swiss riding his lap. 

 

“Shut up or someone will hear us,” he managed breathlessly, and with that, he really began to fuck him, bouncing over his thighs as rose oil slicked and dripped between them. Roderich was panting softly, grabbing Basch’s thighs to steady him as he rose to meet his vigorous thrusts.

 

“Oh fuck,” the brunet whimpered, unable to tear his gaze away from the sultry creature riding his cock. This couldn’t be real. Basch’s cheeks were flushed and his lithe body seemed to be glowing with heat. Those creamy pale thighs were quivering with exertion, and his head was tossed back, his hair a gilt waterfall over his back as he whispered Roderich’s name to the arched ceiling.

 

Basch could feel his lover hitting his prostate with every deep, perfect thrust, and he clenched his inner muscles tighter, gasping and panting softly as he used his arms for leverage - his legs were growing tired from constant use to impale himself on his lap.

 

Roderich was seeing spots of color dance around the edges of his vision, and he gripped Basch’s slender sides like a vice, slamming him down on his thighs and earning a yelp from the petit blond.

 

“Going to-” he gasped weakly, and Basch’s response was a song.

 

“Please,” he whispered, and Roderich felt everything inside of him come undone with a cry of Basch’s name.

 

Basch’s vision when white as he felt heat flood his insides, setting his whole body alight as he trembled and shook in his lover’s tight embrace. Roderich’s lips were parted and his eyes were closed as pleasure washed over him like waves lap the seashore. He seemed far away, but when Basch leaned in to kiss him, his eyes fluttered open.

 

“Basch…” he whispered, and the blond shut him up with another kiss.

 

“Hush.”

 

He did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) They did the doooo. 
> 
> Roderich once won an award for being the sassiest man alive. Basch apparently likes him enough to set that aside. 
> 
> Also I had to think for like twenty minutes to figure out how to get around the lube problem BUT my rose oil perfume came to the rescue. Don't worry about it being unsafe - it's literally just rose petals soaked in olive oil until it smells good. 
> 
> Last chapter's coming up, and it's a short one.
> 
> xx
> 
> Liv


	4. Worth It

Roderich cleaned them both up with the handkerchief and threw it away, hardly mourning the loss of the plum colored silk. It had been worth it.

 

They managed to get dressed and straighten up without mirrors - it was easier to get suits and uniforms on when you had another pair of hands to help you. Roderich gently combed out Basch’s mussed, cream blond hair, and then fixed his own, using his phone camera as a cosmetic mirror. Basch was too tuckered out to judge him.

 

Neither of them spoke, though they left the grand hallway together, making their appearance at the gala.

 

“The food here is horrible,” Roderich sighed into Basch’s ear, and the blond rolled his eyes at the complaint. Nobody was here for the food, except for maybe Prussia (wasn’t he protestant?)

 

“Roderich, I’m on duty here, can you not distract me?”

 

The brunet sighed, placing a hand on his hip. “Well, when are you done? The restaurants here aren’t open forever, and we have to eat sometime.”

 

Basch’s entire body stiffened, and his eyes flicked over to the other man. “Who said anything about  _ we _ ?”

 

The Austrian blinked. “I assumed you would join me. I’ll pay, of course.”

 

The blond’s shoulders sagged. God, he couldn’t resist that kind of offer. “I...I’m done in an hour. I guess we have some talking to do anyway.” He lowered his voice, eyes narrowing. “I do assume you’re not the kind of person to fuck someone and leave them in the dirt?”

 

Roderich’s rich mauve eyes widened in horror. “Basch, we didn’t  _ fuck _ . We  _ made love _ . There’s a difference,” He responded indignantly. “No, I’m not that kind of person. I...really do care about you. And I’d like to take you to dinner once your shift is over.”

 

His heart melted in his chest, and he bit back a sigh of relief. “Yeah, okay. See you in an hour. Now beat it, what do you not understand about “I’m on duty?”

 

Roderich chuckled softly, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m going, I’m going.” Before he left, he took the edelweiss from his buttonhole and carefully tucked it amongst the medals on Basch’s chest. The blond reached up with the hand not holding his halberd to gently stroke the velveteen petals. “Oh, and schatz?”

 

The Swiss man sighed, arching a brow and meeting Roderich’s gaze. “What is it now?”

 

“I lied about my thoughts on your uniform. I find it quite enthralling.” With those words and a cheeky wink, the Austrian slipped away into the crowd, leaving Basch with red cheeks and parted lips.

 

It’s just one night, what could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap, folks!
> 
> I wrote this all in one day so this chapter is short because I was getting tired. I hope you enjoyed it anyway!
> 
> This is my first smutfic, so please be gentle with me, I know I'm going to hell.
> 
> Again, apologies that this chapter is so short, I might embellish it a little more later.
> 
> I really, really appreciate your comments and kudos - they're what keeps me writing. 
> 
> Thank you, and see you next time!!
> 
> xx
> 
> Liv


End file.
